Messenger

People have been asking about how the kids are doing. I'm sorry I haven't posted this sooner. When I received the diagnosis, my first thought was, "I cannot believe they are going to have to go through this. They will not hear the C-word." From this vantage point, I can't believe  how little sense that makes and how completely unrealistic and false it would have been. But then again, it took three days for me to really believe that this was happening to me and that it was serious.

A wise, older friend reminded me of how savvy my kids are and about how any trusting relationship is premised on honesty. My sister also reminded me of childhood friends whose father had cancer.  We knew but our friends didn't. It was awful and it seemed then and now incredibly unfair (if well-intentioned) to those kids.  My oncologist reminded me that my kids would take their lead from me. These things combined moved me to change course. On the afternoon I told them, I went for a run to clear my head and circle my emotional wagons. I reminded myself that I am somebody who has parented amidst some very difficult circumstances and feelings and that if anyone could do this well, it would be me. And so when we sat down to talk about it, with my sisters hovering lovingly on the periphery, I was the messenger I intended to be. 

My son's first question was, "do you think you will lose your hair?"  It's interesting how that looms for the three of us in different ways. Once we talked a little more and he saw pictures of women in scarves and wigs, my son declared with a certain confidence, "It's not going to affect me at all." I think for my lovely 14 year old daughter, the same can't be said. There is no good season for cancer but the timing, developmentally, really stinks. She's been teary and distant these last few days and I remember how difficult and painful any signal of non-conformity can be at that age. She said, "Things always happen when I start at a new school." I can see what she means. Life is surprising and ever-changing. But maybe the next time she starts at a new school, the change will be happy or exciting or both. It's just as likely to be true, after all. 

The graduation party went offf without a hitch. The food was good, it was a fun mix of people, and most of all, the graduate seemed happy. I meant to toast her but I was unable to find the timing and/or marshall my resources. If I'd gotten myself together, here is what I would have said: If I could have gone to the baby girl store, I would have picked that baby off the shelf. And the same is still true:  I would pick this girl off the shelf. And when I think about it that way, I can't believe how lucky I am.